The Story of Marie Ellen Johnson
by EastPiano134
Summary: This story is introducing a character that I want to use in another story. Full Summary inside.


**A/N: Hey everybody! This is my first attempt at fanfiction, though it is only introducing a character that I've had an idea for for a while. I want to know what people think of her and help me to improve her if she is too much of a "Mary-Sue." I want to use her in an Erik/OC story and I don't want my story to sound like it has been done too many times before. If anybody has any ideas for the story, you can PM me. I welcome any criticism as long as it is constructive. **

**I wrote this story for an English assignment a while back and I just got the idea to use her as a character in my story. I hope you guys like her. Enjoy! **

_Damn this corset. _It hardly left room for me to breathe, let alone sit and practice my violin. Not a sensible thing for a lady of higher class to be doing, or so they tell me. Especially when that same young lady aspires to be in the symphony orchestra. According to them, I should be making myself suitable to marry by learning small talk with the ladies or embroidering cloths. That life sounded so boring for me, though. I would much rather sit and play my music for others and get lost in its intoxicatingly beautiful sound.

"Ma'am? Ma'am! Oh, there you are!" But that, alas, was never meant to be.

"Yes, Matilda? What is it?"

"Your mother's lookin' for you. I just wanted to let you know so that when she finds you, you'd better have that thing put away. You know how much she hates it."

"Yes, I know quite well. Thank you Matilda. You may go now."

"Right away, Ma'am." I put my instrument-the only remaining piece of my grandfather-away in its case. That's when I heard footsteps. _Oh, great, _I thought,_ I'd better find a hiding spot for the case before-_

"Oh, sweetheart!" _–Mother finds me. Bugger._ I shoved the case under the bed while she wasn't looking, as she appeared to be occupied by the paper in her hand.

"Hello, Mother. What's in your hand?"

"An invitation from the Hollands. Their _son_ actually dropped it off himself." _So subtle Mother, so subtle_.

"What is it for?" I asked halfheartedly. Maybe I could say I felt ill.

"The symphony orchestra is performing tonight, and the Hollands want us to sit with them in their private box." _The symphony? _That's when I came up with a brilliant idea.

"Oh, that's a pity," I said.

"Why?" my mother replied.

"I have been feeling ill and I'm afraid I won't be able to attend. You and Father should go."

"Oh, dear, that is a pity. Perhaps your father and I should stay-"

"No! I mean, I insist."

"Well, if you're certain."

That night, after they had left, I slipped into their room. I opened my father's wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. My father was a small, thin man, and I inherited my frame from him. After binding my chest I slipped on the clothes, a little uncomfortable in the dress pants. Other than that, the clothes fit me perfectly. I knew I would find a wig later. I then went into my room to retrieve my violin. I snuck out to the stables, undetected, and found my horse. I fastened my case to the saddle, and I rode as fast as I could to the theater. I had been there many times as a child with my father, when it wasn't so frowned upon for me to want to play my music, so I knew how to get in through the back. I tied up my horse, retrieved my violin, and proceeded to go inside. I was there with 10 minutes until the show, so I had to be quick. I crept to the costume department and found a suitable wig. I left and walked calmly toward the stage.

"Hey, you!" It was the conductor.

"Hello," I said in the deepest voice I could manage.

"Who are you?" _Uh-oh. Stupid!_ I thought._ I didn't even think of an alibi_.

"Uh…er..." I knew I was stuck.

"You must be the replacement soloist I was told about. The original one is sick."

"Ah, yes! That's exactly who I am!" _Whew_.

"Well, don't just stand there! Go find a seat and warm up!"

"Right away, sir." I found my seat and tuned my violin. I looked at the sheet music on my stand and instantly recognized it as the piece I was practicing earlier that day. The curtain rose, and it was time. The conductor instructed us to raise our instruments, and I played my heart out. I was lost in the music. I had no perception of time and place; it was just me and the music. When it was time for the solo, I stood as I was told and played for the audience. When all was finished, there was a great pause. Suddenly, the crowd erupted with applause-applause for _me_. I was the happiest I'd ever been, until something happened backstage. I was accepting praise from the other musicians when I heard the one voice I wanted to hear least in the world.

"Marie Ellen Johnson! How dare you! Stealing your father's clothes, disrespecting our wishes. Why I have never-" My mother was cut off mid-rant by the conductor.

"Splendid playing, young man! How would you like-"

"I'm sorry, sir but you have been misled." She ripped off the wig to reveal my long, black hair. "This is my daughter, and I assure you that she will be thoroughly punished for this trickery." I felt as if my life was over.

"Well, if she plays like that, I don't see why she can't join us-as a young woman, of course." By this time, a rather large crowd had gathered around us.

"I agree, and she-wait, what did you just say?" Mother was flabbergasted. I was speechless as well. I was wondering what he meant by this.

"She could be the greatest violinist in all of England, even all of Europe!" I could not contain myself anymore.

"Really? Oh Mother, can I join them please?"

"I'm not sure if that is such a good-"

"Darling, let her do it. You saw as well as I did the passion in how she played. This is what she wants. She will be happy." My father always knew what to say.

"Oh, very well. If this is what will make you happy, I guess that I will have to accept it." She gave me a sad smile, but I knew that she would grow to accept that I was growing up and ready to make my own decisions.

I finally had what I had desired most: my music for the world to hear. I was truly happy, and I enjoyed every concert more than the last. I also had the opportunity to be a guest violinist in other orchestras, too. I knew my mother wanted me to get married, and eventually I did, while still managing to have the opportunity to play. I also had many _interesting_ experiences in my travels. That is another story altogether, though: my story. And I enjoy every minute of it.


End file.
